


Wednesdays Could Use Improvement

by Scoobert0



Series: Could This Week Get Any Worse? [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Recovery, so I smothered it with more fluff, that tried to be angsty for a little bit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 10:58:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scoobert0/pseuds/Scoobert0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is finally released from the hospital with orders to go on bed rest. And unfortunately for him, he's going home to the biggest bunch of mother hens the world has ever seen. At this point, he'd consider himself lucky if Steve ever let him out of the tower without wrapping him in layers of bubble wrap first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wednesdays Could Use Improvement

**Author's Note:**

> I have 3 stories that are in desperate need of an update and 4 more fics rough drafted. So obviously it was in my best interest to start a sequel that was never supposed to exist.
> 
> This is a continuation of [Reasons Why Tuesday Sucks](469360/chapters/811377), You'll probably want to read that one first to understand the context of Tony's injuries.

“Steve.”

“Tony.”

“Steeeeeeeeve.”

“ _Tony_.”

“Steve. Steve, Please. Please, Steve. Steve, pretty please. Steve!”

“Tony, no.”

“Oh, Come on!”

Steve crossed his arms over his broad chest. Tony mimicked the motion and added a glare as he looked between the Super Soldier and the wheelchair next to him.

“I can walk! I’m being released, with approval for once, I’m pretty sure that means I can walk.”

“Other than its hospital policy, the doctors said you have to still take it easy,” Steve explained for the hundredth time, his patience was amazingly still intact. Part of Tony was in awe, thinking if this man could put up with him like this, there was a real chance of having a real, working relationship with him. Another part of him, however, had an inexplicable urge to push him to the breaking point. To prove that it would never work out between them.

Suddenly, Natasha materialized in the middle of the room, making him jump about a foot off the bed, “Holy shi-!”

“You are going to sit in that wheelchair and be wheeled out or I will have Steve carry you out over his shoulder,” she threatened. He opened his mouth to protest, buy snapped it shut when her eyes narrowed.

“Fine,” he acquiesced grudgingly. Getting to his feet stiffly, he shuffled over to the damned wheelchair and collapsed into it with a huff, “I’m only doing this because I am under duress and you scare me.”

“Of course,” Natasha replied dryly, dropping a baseball cap onto his lap before stealing the chair’s handles from Steve’s hands and marching Tony out of the room and down the hall herself. He could hear Steve’s jogging footsteps as he caught up with them. He’d obviously had been just as shocked as he was at Natasha’s behavior.

Tony slipped the hat on; covering up the buzz cut the doctors had been generous enough to give him while he’d been unconscious. No one said anything until they were all in the elevator headed down to the lobby.

“When we get back to the tower, you will be on bed rest of the week, till Monday. No exceptions except for using the bathroom and getting food. You will be either in your room or in the living room. You will only be allowed to use a tablet or your phone for a couple hours a day,” Natasha dictated using the same voice she used on the junior agents at SHIELD.

“Yeah, no. I gotta get in the workshop and get some readings on this arc reactor Pepper dug out of God only knows where, and probably make a new one,” he lifted the collar of his shirt slightly to look down at said reactor, “Yep, this is an older model, totally not going to end well the longer it stays in. Not to mention it doesn’t produce enough power to run the newer suits so I’m just going to head down- Ow!” He yelped after Natasha pinched his neck hard, “What the hell woman?!”

“You are not allowed in your lab for two weeks, Stark. Miss Potts has informed JARVIS to keep it on lockdown. Any scans you might want to do can be done by Bruce while you are resting. Everyone _will_ be keeping an eye on you, and we _will_ use force if necessary,” she finished just as the elevator doors opened.

“Natasha, this is one of the palladium reactors. You know what the palladium did to me last time; I do _not_ want to go through that again, ok? It’d probably be worse this time too, so I really need to-“

“I’ve discussed it with Bruce. He feels that as long as you’re on a Lithium Dioxide regiment, you shouldn’t have any symptoms.”

“Yeah, but I’ll still be suffering from palladium poisoning, just not with the high tech crossword,” he protested, “My immune system is only just recovering from that whole ordeal, and that happened almost 3 years ago now.”

“Palladium poisoning, what? What are you guys talking about?” Steve cut in before either of them could continue to argue about it.

“It’s… Something that happened. I’ll tell you about it sometime,” he placated as they moved through the lobby towards the exit.

Exiting the hospital, he was temporarily blinded by the sun light. Later, he would neither confirm nor deny that he literally hissed as the UV rays touched his skin for the first time in over a week.

“You a vampire or something now, Stark?” Barton’s voice joked from somewhere nearby.

“Nobody warned me it was this bright out. I’ve been stuck in a room without windows for over a week and a half, I’d’ve appreciated a warning and a pair of sunglasses,” he mumbled. Just as he finished speaking, Happy appeared and handed him a pair of dark glasses, “You are my favorite,” he announced as he accepted the glasses and slipped them on. The other man smiled amusedly before going to open the car door as Natasha wheeled him forward. Shrugging off someone’s hand on his shoulder, he pushed himself onto his feet. Using the car frame for support, he moved himself closer to the car and slid in. He’d intended to scoot to the far side to make room for the others, but he met resistance. Solid, warm resistance. He turned to see that Steve had gone around and gotten in on the other side already. Smiling, he shimmied closer to him.

Natasha slid in behind him, a disapproving glare in place. A second later he was being smooshed between Steve and the red haired assassin as Clint squeezed himself into the backseat as well.

“Jesus Christ, Barton, it’s a fucking limo, sit on a different seat!” he groused.

“I don’t think I shall,” the archer quipped loftily.

As the limo started pulling forward into traffic, he became more and more uncomfortable, being forcefully pressed against Steve’s hard shoulder and side via Natasha’s elbow and hip. Grumbling, he manicured himself up onto Steve’s lap.

“Fine. I like this arrangement better anyways,” he proclaimed, giving his new seat a smug grin.

“Tony, this isn’t safe,” Steve chided, even as his hands moved up to grip his waist.

“I have a Super Soldier seatbelt now, nothing safer.”

After that the drive towards home was spent in strained, near silence. He could damn near feel something like guilt radiating off Clint, even with Natasha between them. More than once, he caught the archer looking at him meekly when he thought he wouldn’t see. Natasha herself was turned in her seat so that she was facing him and just watching. It was extremely unnerving and he tried not to squirm.

Beneath him, Steve was tense, his hands continually clenching and unclenching on his waist, like he was uncomfortable and wanted to let go. Was he regretting starting something with him already, Tony wondered. And as much as he hated to admit it, that thought really wasn’t all that surprising, actually.

Sighing in defeat, he started leaning forward to slide off Steve’s lap with the intent to move to one of the side benches of the limo. As soon as his weight shifted, Steve’s hands were gone. Damn it, Tony hated it when he was right about these kinds of things.

But then there were strong arms wrapping around his middle, holding him in place.

“Easy, Tony. Are you alright? Are you getting tired?” the Super Soldier asked worriedly, pulling him back so he was leaning against his chest.

“Was just gonna go on the other seat,” he murmured.

“Clint, Natasha, you two move, give Tony some space to stretch out,” ordered Steve. Natasha nodded as she pushed her fellow assassin onto the side bench and followed.

“It was fine,” Tony tried to protest as Steve maneuvered him back onto the seat next to him. The blond didn’t bother acknowledging the comment and arranged him so he was leaning against his side comfortably.

Huh. Maybe he was still misreading this whole ‘Steve Rogers has admitted he likes you, like, like-likes you’ thing.

Even though the ride home wasn’t an overly long one, he dozed off at some point. He shut his eyes for a second and the next Steve was gently shaking him and telling him they were home.

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed,” Steve cajoled, climbing halfway into the limo, offering him a hand.

“Ugh, too tired to walk, just carry me,” he made grabby hands at Steve, mimicking the action small children made when the wanted to be held. Steve rolled his eyes and smirked, leaning forward to ease him upright. He smooshed his face into the beautifully muscled chest before him, not caring when the hat brim got in the way,

“And if anybody asks, it was your idea and you’re using your amazing, super strength against me in a nefarious fashion.”

“Of course, Tony,” came the amused reply, “Here, scoot closer to the door so I can get a better hold of you then.”

Stiffly, Tony followed the order and slid himself closer to the door, fixing the hat as he went. Steve curled an arm under his knees and brought the other up behind his back.

Tony lifted his arms to wrap around his neck, “I was thinking more along the lines of a piggyback ride there Cap. Cause, you know, I deserve the chance to ride around on your back since you seem to think I’m your personal battle steed.”

Steve chuckled as he stood, Tony securely wrapped in his arms, “Remind me about it sometime when you aren’t still recovering from severe chest trauma.”

“JARVIS, take note!”

“Noted, Sir,” came the response. Nodding, Tony turned his head to rest it on Steve’s shoulder. The Super Soldier walked them into the waiting elevator. As the doors closed, he felt a kiss being pressed to the top of his head. He smiled and nuzzled into Steve’s neck as the lift began its assent.

“You’re nice and warm,” he mumbled, “So nice.”

“And your nose is cold,” Steve commented, pulling him closer (don’t ask him how it was possible, but it apparently was).

“Yeah, I’ve always run a little cold, and my circulation has never been the best,” he explained with a wide yawn.

“Which explains why the temperature automatically jumps up several degrees when you come into a room,” observed Steve.

“That’s cause I’m just so damn sexy, “  he smirked, “Able to get Captain America all hot and bothered just by walking in the room. Which I still have no idea how I never noticed before, fyi. Still, I deserve an award or something.”

Picking his head up, Tony looked upon his Captain’s face, and felt extremely proud of the red flush that was spreading across his face and up to his ears. Steve was so cute when he when he blushed (God, was he really thinking rainbow vomit inducing thoughts about this man already?).

“You do realize that JARVIS explained how the personal environment settings work when I first moved in here, right? He explained how the standard temperature in any unoccupied room or rooms with multiple people in them was 20°C and would adjust to our own personal settings if we’re in a room by ourselves.”

“I’m not following. What exactly are you getting at here?”

“What I’m trying to say is that my personal settings are higher than the standard temperature, even in the summer, because, well, you know… I just really don’t like to be cold, at all. For obvious reasons.

“But my point is that even when there are other people in a room, when you walk in it gets hotter,” Tony opened his mouth to make a sarcastic comment about Steve’s word choice, but he cut him off before he could begin, “Temperature wise, smart ass.”

“Yeah, yeah. I may possibly, maybe have my environmental preferences set as priority. It doesn’t help that I’m more used to Malibu weather still. Which, by the way, has a much more stable climate than New York. None of this dealing with a hormonal Mother Nature crap.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to make Malibu sound as appealing as possible. Are you planning to steal me away there and seduce me?”

“I can steal you away to any location you wish to be seduced at, babe.” They both laughed for a few seconds before Steve spoke up.

“And I should probably say, admittedly,” he began, “that depending on your state of dress at the time, your walking into a room has gotten me a little hot and bothered on occasion.”

“I knew it!” Tony threw his hands up in the air victoriously, “Like I said before, I totally deserve an award!”

“I don’t know about an actual award, but I could possibly provide a reward,” he giggled as Captain America, of all people, waggled his eyebrows at him, the notorious Tony Stark.

“Wow, Cap, that was kinda corny, even by your standards,” he teased, noting that Steve’s head was tilting down towards his.

“Maybe, but you liked it.”

“I do have a soft spot for corny romantics,” he confided, threading his fingers through Steve’s hair before pulling him down for a kiss.

It was the first kiss they’d shared that was more than a chaste press of lips. Tony nipped at Steve’s bottom lip, sucking on it lightly. He felt Steve’s tongue slide across his upper lip, and obvious request for entrance into his mouth. The corners of his lips twitched upwards as he let his mouth open up to allow Steve to plunder it.

“Ew, gross! Get a room, Jesus!” someone cried.

Steve and Tony sprung apart, their heads whipping around towards the direction the voice had come from. It appeared that they’d reached their destination and hadn’t noticed when the elevator doors opened. The whole team was apparently waiting for them in the foyer of the communal floor.

Tony glanced up at Steve’s face and saw that his face was completely red with embarrassment at having been caught in the act of making out. His expression was one of someone who would have liked to disappear right then and there.

Turning to look at the others now, he could see Clint grinning crookedly with Natasha glaring at him from just behind him. Good. He had plenty of ammunition in his blackmail arsenal to bring him down to the level of embarrassment he’d caused Steve.

“Hey, it’s my tower, I can make out with my man where and when ever I please. If it offends you that much though, which it shouldn’t; I’ve seen your porn folder, you have these things called eyelids that go over your eyes. You could just, you know, close them,” he watched in amusement while Clint sputtered for a moment as Steve walked them out of the elevator.

“How the hell?- What were you doing with my computer?! I thought we agreed on the rule that you’re not allowed to hack into our personal computers unless we’re missing and can’t be found or something,” Clint accused, still looking frazzled.

“And I’ve been good, exemplary even, in following that rule. I don’t think any of you realize how much self control it takes on a daily basis to resist breaking through those flimsy firewalls you all have.

“But it’s a completely different matter when you save something to the Avengers home network and not your personal network. You got some pretty kinky stuff there Barton,” he smiled pleasantly at the archer, enjoying his reaction of wide eyes and his ears turning bright red in embarrassment. A yawn caught him off guard. Stretching out an arm, he whipped the hat off dramatically and pointed in the direction of the living room with it, “In any case, onwards my valiant steed! To the couch!”

Steve shook his head at him, but followed his direction. The others fell in behind them. Tony could hear Natasha already needling Clint about what kinds of porn he had saved.

Reaching their destination, Steve moved to set Tony on the couch with the best view of the mini movie screen that was their TV. Once he was down, he tossed the hat onto the coffee table seconds before a pile of pillows dropped down on top of him without warning.

“My apologies, Tony,” Thor said from above him, “I had meant to throw them on the floor, but alas I was carrying too many.”

“S’all good, Thor. They’re just pillows, it’s not like you dropped Mjlonir on me or something,” he reassured, knocking some of them on the floor as he searched out his favorite ones. Someone took them from his hands, shoving them behind him and pushed him back into them. He saw Natasha walk off to sit in the chair Clint had perched on. He raised an eyebrow in question and she smiled back at him. If he hadn’t already been terrified of her on a good day, he might have shit himself in fright.

He focused back closer to himself when Steve draped a blanket over him.

“Ok, seriously people. Let’s get something cleared up right here and now: As much as I like being the center of all your affections, there is a fine line between being pampered and being treated like an invalid. And right now? You’re all pushing it. Except Thor, he’s just being the helpful puppy of a man he always is. And I guess Clint, he hasn’t really done anything. Oh, and Bruce. Speaking of Bruce, where did he go, I need to talk at him.”

“One week, Stark. No if’s, and’s, or but’s about it,” was all Natasha said, and he sunk back into his pillows, arms crossed across his chest (he wasn’t pouting. He was an adult and he most certainly did not pout).

A hand rubbed lightly over his buzzed hair, sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine that had him instantly relaxing, “I still think I look like an idiot like this, but that feels awesome,” he leaned back further and looked up at Steve, who smiled down at him, “Keep it up and I might not mind being treated like an invalid quite as much.”

“Well aren’t you easy to please,” mused Clint, still perched on the chair, but looking more relaxed than he had before.

“Why does everyone think I’m so hard to please?! Just give me booze or food or run fingers through my hair or any combination of the three, and I’ll be happy as a… Something that’s happy,” he complained while rubbing lightly over his chest. The deep ache that had developed from healing internal acid burns was getting stronger, obviously, since he was no longer able to ignore it. He should probably be thinking about taking a dose of his pain killers…

No sooner had he thought that, Bruce appeared in front of him.

“Jesus Christ, Banner! Where the hell did you ninja in from?”

“The kitchen,” the doctor stated blandly, holding a cup of water in one hand and a Dixie cup in the other, “its pill time.”

Steve helped sit him up and took the opportunity to slip onto the couch behind him. Rolling his eyes, Tony held you a hand which Bruce dumped the pills into. Once he’d popped them into his mouth, Bruce handed over the glass. Swallowing the pills down, he finished off the water as well. Handing the empty glass back, he settled down against Steve’s chest. The big man arranged a few of the pillows across his lap to make it a little more comfortable.

Snuggling up against Steve’s broad chest, he sighed in contentment. The fingers came back to rub over his hair, making him hum in approval. He felt Steve’s chest vibrate as he chuckled.

“Hey Steve,” he slurred, he was half asleep as his exhaustion from the day hit him and the drugs started to kick in.

“Yeah Tony?”

“You have great tits,” he smiled as he heard Steve sputter under his head and Clint laughing from across the room.  He snuggled in closer to Steve and let himself drop off to sleep.


End file.
